"Where are you taking me? I can't pacify my curiosity any longer." Christine pleaded to the Daroga.
"My dear, Erik has sworn to stitch my mouth shut if I even hint at where I'm taking you. It's a risk I cannot afford, for he is a very illogical man at times." The Persian assured her.
"Ah, so this is entirely Erik's plan?"
"I have said too much." He mumbled, guiding Christine towards a street of beautiful buildings just across from some small shops.
The soprano's wide eyes gazed fascinatedly at everything surrounding her. It was as though she were in her own romanticized world with her delicate smile and the childlike wonder in her eyes. The Daroga could never understand how Christine ever did come to loving Erik the way she did, especially after the madness of his friend pretending to be a phantom instructor. But here he was, leading the willing girl to Erik for a surprise.
Towards the end of the street, they stopped and the Daroga led them towards the doorway of the prettiest building. The heavy door was opened by an elegantly-dressed Erik, to Christine's surprise, and he welcomed them inside. Everything was so ornate and luxurious, more beautiful than even a castle. She was amazed by the white lace sheers on each window, the exotic flowers in porcelain vases, expensive acrylic or oil paintings, rich wooden tables, sets of crystal drinking ware, hand-painted china sets, and fine furniture to lounge upon.
Still in a state of surprise, Christine had only greeted Erik upon seeing him and gazed at the grand sights inside of the home. The two men sat in the living room, laughing to themselves about the girl's starry-eyed look. Slowly, she made her way over to the sofa Erik was seated on and joined him with several questions in her mind.
"Whose home is this?" She asked, still looking all over the room.
"I bought it, of course." Erik shrugged casually, though his heart was pounding for what was to come.
Her eyes widened, "Are you joking? You must be; after all, you lived under the opera all this time."
"No this is no joke, Christine. I do own this property and everything in it."
"It is simply marvelous Erik! Though, why did you not bring me here yourself?"
"This was meant to be a surprise," He paused, "Because it's not just my home."
"What do you mean?"
"Ah, well a home is not just a place for a person to...well be solitary and ehm, simply occupy even as I'm not the most regular fellow...it would be unfortunate to-" Erik stuttered.
His Persian friend butted in: "What Erik means to say is that he wishes to share his home...with you."
"Thank you, Daroga." Erik muttered, blushing terribly under the mask.
Christine was stunned in her seat and stared blankly at her tutor of several years not knowing what to say. Perhaps it was a simple invitation to continue improperly living together unmarried, but in an above-ground home. But part of her was hoping that it included a marriage proposal, just to fulfill what her father always wished for her- a family and a home. This offer was more than Christine or her dear father could have ever imagined.
"Everything is fully furnished, there is a full dresser of clothes for you as well. If there is anything that doesn't please you I will rid of it immediately and I can bring things from below the Populaire, which happens to be a mere walk further down the road." Erik tried to persuade her.
"I would delight in still remaining below the Populaire so you needn't even ask me if I want to live here. And there was no reason whatsoever for you to purchase anything at all solely on my account." Christine smiled.
"As glad as I am to hear that, my offer extends to solve the improper living arrangement we've been under for a while now. I would like to ask for your hand." Erik confessed, getting down to kneel on the floor and reveal the ring from his pocket.
Christine stood up in shocked delight. Their position, and the girl's wide skirts, hid her uncontrollable tears from Erik's view as he waited for her response. With each fraction of a second, the masked man grew increasingly anxious- his heart beating louder, blood pulsing harder, hands slightly shaking against his will, lungs needing more air, and mind coming up with a million questions as to why Christine hadn't said anything yet.
In all the pressure, the Daroga had been completely forgotten. He sat ever-calmly in the same seat and watched the girl's expression for a clue as to what she may say. It seemed very unlikely for her to reject Erik's proposal, but his previous actions were beyond unthinkable and easily good reasons for her to do so. The Daroga remained quiet and was prepared to intervene in only if absolutely necessary.
After her eyes lingered over the precision and detail of the ring presented to her, Christine finally mustered some words in response: "I-I...y-yes."
"You accept?" Erik questioned, eyes round as saucers and grasping Christine's hand firmer.
Nodding slowly and smiling wider, she gradually met his gaze then almost whispered: "Yes, Erik."
The masked man stood up before her and froze with the same surprised look on his half-covered face. Their hands were still connected so Christine took the liberty of slipping the ring onto her slim finger and seeing how it looked placed on her hand.
Just the sight of that little piece of jewelry on her finger made his head spin. His most beautiful and wishful dream had just come true with this angel of a girl. There was a willing grin on her face, maybe even some honest delight in her shining eyes. Erik seemed incapable of believing what just occurred, so he fainted right into the hands of the Daroga and his new fiancée.